


that caffeine buzz

by slyther_ing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, its cormac how could he not flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 04:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13286718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slyther_ing/pseuds/slyther_ing
Summary: “I’m Cormac McLaggen.”She eyes him warily. “I know who you are.”“Great,” the grin he flashes errs on the side of too bright, and a little too neat for there not to be some serious money put into it. “Great, so now that we know each other, do you think you could do me a favor?”





	that caffeine buzz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewasabipea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewasabipea/gifts).



> A short Chormac ficlet written for thewasabipea for the 2016 Rare Pair Secret Santa Exchange!

 

 Marietta stares at her over the rim of her reading glasses, face still a little pink from her face-wash. “It’s your last winter formal. Are you honestly not going to go?”

Cho has half a mind to remind Marietta that the last sorority event she’d tried to attend had ended in a disastrous turn of events, complete with a ripped dress, a vomiting date (Roger Davies really wasn't renowned for holding his alcohol) and her winding up back home by ten, eating leftover Thai food right out of the Tupperware.

Her track record, when it comes to college social events, aren’t exactly stellar.

“I don’t have a dress,” she tries, but her roommate fixes her with a knowing look. Too common of an excuse – drat.

Parvati and Lavender, their respective Littles, wander by the open door to Cho and Marietta’s room, probably attracted by the talk of the upcoming formal.

“Cho, there’s this guy in my physics class,” Parvati starts, arm looped casually in Lavender’s, “I think he’s pretty interested in you.” She winks coquettishly. “Your type, too.”

“I don’t have a type,” Cho replies immediately, except she does – always goes for the emotionally unavailable. “And I’m not going.”

“But you have to!” Lavender pipes up, leaning against the doorframe, blond curls bobbing as she nods alongside Parvati, “You’re secretary of Chi O. Isn’t it like – e-board duties?”

She has a point, and Cho curses that fact that Marietta has probably roped her little into this whole scheme already. Not that she’s grateful for her friends trying to get her to be more social after last year, but her courses are busy and she’s studying for MCATs and honestly, her dating life is the least of her concerns.

“Fine,” she concedes, but at her affirmation, her friends get dangerous gleams in their eyes that spell the same type of disaster that landed her with Michael Corner at the last social.

Marietta claps her hands excitedly. “Good, I’ll mention to Ernie that you’re going and –”

“Ernie?” Parvati sniffs, “Please, that guy? No, Cho, I Know Montague is looking for a date –”

“That asshole? Oh my _God_ , where is your _taste_ –”

And Cho watches with dawning disbelief at how she’s once again, gotten herself into a mess. After Cedric, none of the dates she’s been set up on (or really, gone on herself) have been successful, and she’s not about to let a disaster happen again.

“Cho, tell Marietta she’s delusional.”

“Cho –”

“Cho –”

“That’s enough!” Cho cries and maybe it was that second espresso shot she had to prep for her physiology exam, or the lack of sleep from the freshman football players hooting and hollering last night, but she finds herself blurting out, “I already know a guy.”

Parvati, Lavender, and Marietta stop their bickering immediately.

“Really?” Marietta asks, skeptical.

“Yes, really,” Cho smiles, hoping its not too obvious, because she hasn’t been one to really pursue a crush on her own time. “I’m – well, I’m seeing this guy.”

The lie falls out of her mouth a little too easily, and the rational side of her is yelling about how this will never pass, but the other, larger part of her, is applauding because it’s quiet in her room now and she can usher her sisters out to get some sleep.

Parvati raises a perfectly groomed brow. “Who?”

“Um, he does sports.”

Parvati and Lavender deflate – they’ve never been one for paying attention to their school teams, and neither has Marietta. Maybe Cho _can_ actually pull this off.

“Well, we’ll meet him on Friday then.” Marietta shoots her a small smile, and Cho feels terrible, because she knows her friends all have her best interests at heart, knows that she hasn’t been the same since Cedric, and she’s knocked away all their attempts to make her feel better.

She has half a mind to come clean, but that’ll just put her back in the same spot. Might as well trudge forward, and figure it out along the way.

“Yes,” Cho says, waving goodnight to Parvati and Lavender, and snuggling in under her covers, “You’ll definitely meet him.”

***

Monday and Tuesday pass with her barely keeping her head up above the string of assignments, and before she knows it, Wednesday is drawing to an end, and Cho still has no idea who she’s going to pull in as her date.

She’s tapping her pen anxiously on her notebook, running through potential friends she could take – all of them are either in relationships (drat) or busy (double drat) – in the middle of the library when some sorority goddess decides to bless her with an opportunity.

“Psst,” a voice whispers close by, “Psst, Chang.”

Cho starts at the sight of the green eyes of Cormac McLaggen, newest linebacker for the football team, peeping over at her from behind a biology textbook. She doesn’t know when he’d even sat down at her table, let alone _why_ , because the most words they’d exchanged had been when he’d accidentally knocked down her coffee going doing the auditorium steps to his seat in Genetics.

He’d said sorry and attempted to mop up the mess with his notes. She’d waved him off, and that was it.

“Um? Hi? How do you know my name?”

He lets the textbook fall with a soft thwump. “Hey, who wouldn’t?” His wink almost makes her roll her eyes, if it weren’t for the manners her mother has installed in her. “Secretary of Chi O, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m Cormac McLaggen.”

She eyes him warily. “I know who you are.”

“Great,” the grin he flashes errs on the side of too bright, and a little too neat for there not to be some serious money put into it. “Great, so now that we know each other, do you think you could do me a favor?”

“I’m not setting you up with Fleur,” Cho responds immediately, because her sorority president is what all the football bros seem to want these days.

Cormac puts his hands out, placating, making an exaggerated sort of shocked grimace as if saying ‘no _way_ ’. “No, no, Chang, you’ve got it all wrong. Nah, I was just wondering if you’d let me borrow your cheat sheet for Genetics. I have to make up the exam and it would be really, really helpful.”

Cho remembers staying up all night to cram all her Genetics notes onto one small index card, and call her a little possessive, but like hell she’s just going to let someone who spends all class on _fucking_ _Netflix_ (she sits behind him, she sees him watching Breaking Bad) use her hard work and breeze through the exam.

“Write your own, McLaggen,” Cho sighs, ready to shut him out and turn back to her assignment, except his hand darts out to reach for hers across the library table, and she freezes because – why is he _touching_ her?

“C’mon, Chang,” Cormac flashes another brilliant grin, “I know you’re, like, top of our class. It’d be really helping a guy out.”

“I’m not going to just _give_ you it.”

But that seems to be the wrong thing to say because his eyes light up. Cormac pulls his wallet out discreetly, ready to dole out whatever bills he needs to get the cheat sheet, and much to her chagrin, Cho feels a pang of sympathy – he must really need to pass.

“How much do you want for it?” He’s not even _ashamed._

She waves his offered money out of her face. “Do you know how shady this looks? I don’t want money, okay, _whatever_ , you’re bothering me, you can just take it.”

Cho’s expecting him to whistle cheerily, to thank her profusely in that charming-boy way of his, but instead he looks a little guilty. Which is surprising, given the circumstances of their conversation.

“Look, I can tell you worked hard on this, so I don’t want to just – y’know, _use_ it.”

“There’s nothing you can do for me.”

“C’mon, Chang. Any favors you need?”

She sighs, eyes him for a moment, takes in the ratty university sweatshirt, the day old stubble, and the ruffled blond hair that looks like he’d just rolled out of bed. Cho thinks she might just be desperate, that this formal has really addled her brain, but she decides to go for it.

He’s good looking enough, anyways, in an I’m-blond-and-fit-and-I-know-it kind of way. And it’ll only be for a night, enough to fool her friends into thinking her romantic life isn’t as dismal as it actually is.

“I would appreciate some help, actually.” She closes her notebook, crosses her arms primly.

Cormac leans forward, eager and thankful. “Sure, what do you need?”

***

Marietta swipes some more lip-gloss on, before turning to appraise Cho’s outfit. “You said his name was Cormac?”

“Yeah,” Cho repeats for the nth time, brushing out the knots in her hair. “He plays football.”

Marietta grins, seemingly pleased for the information. “I guess it pays to like sports sometimes,” she shrugs, clearly unbothered by her own lack of involvement in anything physical. “Is he cute?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell him I said that.”

The doorbell rings promptly, and Cho excuses herself to see who it is. She’s anxious – sure, Cormac had agreed easily, but it’s not like she could make sure he’d actually show. It didn’t help that he’d made up the exam by Thursday – so really, if he wanted to flake, he wouldn’t be losing anything.

But there he is on the Chi O doorstep, dressed in an impeccably tailored winter coat. Cho’ll give him some credit – at least he cleans up well. She ushers him inside, shivering slightly at the cold. When she bends down to grab her heels, however, a small bouquet of flowers is shoved into her face.

“Here you go,” McLaggen smiles, clearly pleased with himself, “Glad they match your dress.”

Cho stares. “Okay, a little bit overkill.”

He straightens his tie, glances down at his shoes, and shrugs in a manner that screams feigned casualness. “Might as well, right? If they think we’re seeing each other already.”

She touches the flowers, petals soft underneath her fingertips. They really are quite pretty, and they _do_ go well with her blue dress. Cho supposes he has a point, and she flashes him a small smile.

“Thanks,” she mumbles. He beams.

“Your, uh, cheat sheet. It really helped. I kinda feel bad for using it.” He unbuttons his coat, slipping it off as easily as he runs plays on the field.

So she’s searched up some of his plays. Big deal. She shrugs, still looking at the flowers in her hand. She can’t remember the last time a guy has actually tried, even if it is for just a fake date. _Given_ the fact that it’s a fake date.

“Why are you taking Genetics, anyways?” Cho asks, as Cormac takes to inspecting the Christmas ornaments on their mantelpiece with amusement. “It’s full of premed students.”

He smirks, but there’s a tinge of self-deprecation in there as well. “How’d you know I’m not?”

Cho blinks. “Oh, um. I’m sorry –”

He cuts her off as she starts floundering for the proper thing to say. “Nah, I’m kidding. I needed a science credit, and overestimated how hard the class would be.”

“Oh,” Cho laughs, “That makes sense.”

She doesn’t know why she’s a little disappointed – D1 athletes who are also pro-surgeons in the making aren’t that common, after all. Maybe on Grey’s Anatomy, which she firmly reminds herself to stop binge watching.

“It also got me here, so,” Cormac laughs, and she thinks he’s going to follow up with some pick-up line, something cliché, except all he says is, “Glad I had the blazer to match. Not bad for a favor, huh?”

The shades of blue are pretty damn close to one another, Cho realizes. “Lucked out, I guess.”

Cormac nods, pokes the little clip in her hair. “You look good, Chang.”

The heavy clomp of heels on hardwood floors makes them both jump a bit, Marietta’s tell-tale footsteps descending down the narrow staircase. Cho jumps to give Cormac a hug, ready to play the part. He stiffens underneath her arms for a bit, but relaxes as he most likely spots Marietta as well.

“Thank you so much, Cormac!” Cho gushes just as Marietta reaches them, and she turns immediately to her friend. “He brought me flowers!”

Marietta coos accordingly, then turns to shake Cormac’s hand and look him over. Given the fact that he’s someone who seems like he preens under attention, Cho thinks, Cormac takes the appraisal pretty well.

“So how long have you two been seeing each other? Cho never mentioned.” Marietta asks, still shaking Cormac’s hand vigorously.

“A month,” Cormac says, at the same time Cho blurts out, “Two weeks.”

Marietta raises an eyebrow.

“We met a month ago,” Cormac supplies smoothly, and Cho sighs in relief. Discreetly, of course. Marietta seems to buy it, anyways.

“Fancy meeting someone new during senior year,” Marietta winks as she tugs Cho to the kitchen, handing her a glass of wine. “He’s cute. Do you think it’ll go anywhere?”

“We’ll see,” Cho stumbles over, because the only reason he’s here is for her notes – which he already used, her brain supplies, but she shoves that notion away. It’s a favor and he’s getting free food and alcohol. There’s no need to overthink things.

They mingle with the rest of her housemates and their respective dates, Roger Davies shuffling awkwardly past Cho, earning her a confused look from Cormac. By the time Fleur swans in, leather-jacket-wearing boyfriend on her arm, Cho’s already decently buzzed and slightly tipsy on her heels. It’s been a rough semester, and Marietta and Parvati and Lavender had a point – letting herself go a bit was a breath of fresh air.

And then they head to the basement, which is what Fleur declares as ‘the real party’, and what Cho considers the place where most of her dates have ended terribly.

Except Cormac seems as comfortable as he is down here with a bunch of cheering drunk sorority girls and their respective loud dates as he does when Cho watches him with his teammates in the dining hall. In fact, Cormac just looks comfortable everywhere, and she’s equal parts pleased and envious.

She’s always had to work to find her place – sure, she’s friendly and relatively kind, but Cho always finds herself overthinking every social interaction, making sure she’s saying the right things and being the right type of person, and it’s exhausting – there are expectations on her shoulders, to be the good daughter, to take the premed track, to join a respectable, recognized sorority.

And Cormac – so she’s done a bit of research after asking him for this favor. And what she’s gleaned is that he’s a natural. The kind of son who goes sailing with his dad and posts perfectly sunlit photos on Instagram. The kind of football player with a tinge of arrogance, but other people still call him ‘charming’ when asked.

The person who has no qualms about asking for something just the slightest shade away from cheating, because he knows he can get away with it.

It’s kind of thrilling, doing this kind of thing. She knows she has a hot streak inside of her somewhere, and he’s the prep-school bad boy that she should be shying away from.

Maybe she’s more than a little intrigued – but that could be the wine talking.

Parvati stumbles by with Lavender in tow, both giggling. “Cho, Cho, your guy is gre-a-at. I think he’s a good one for you.”

“Thanks,” Cho responds, but it hits her how fake this whole thing is. A fake date with a guy who might not be interested, for the exchange of notes. What a farce her romantic life has become.

Cormac pushes his way over then, takes her hand, and relegates them to a corner in the basement, far enough away from the thumping speakers so they can hear each other’s voices. “So – for people who’ve been seeing each other, I don’t know a lot about you.”

“Four years and you never heard about Basket-Case Chang?” She prods, because the whole ordeal had been public knowledge to the entire campus.

He shrugs, looking awkward for the first time. “Well. I think it’s unfair to just _hear_ about a person.”

“I don’t think this is the time to talk about it,” Cho tries, because wine has loosened her tongue and the tipsiness is really setting in, and she _knows_ it's a bad idea, but if he asks again, she’s going to spill everything and probably end up a crying mess.

“No, c’mon, I wanna know,” Cormac asks, and as her mouth starts moving of it’s own accord, she thinks this is where the disaster strikes.

They wind up in the upstairs bathroom, Cho perched on the toilet cover and Cormac sitting cross-legged on the floor. She’s drunk and all her secrets are laid bare, and now Cormac is looking at her.

It’s not with pity. It’s not with interest, either, as if she’s a bug under the microscope, all glassy eyed from tears. No, he’s just looking, and he’s still holding her hand, and he hasn’t said much, but he hasn’t run away, either.

“Wow,” Cho jokes, “I didn’t cry at all this time.”

Cormac cracks a small smile. “A success, then.”

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, “You probably didn’t want all that.”

He shrugs, easy. “I like to know about people.”

They stay in that bathroom for the rest of the night, Cormac asking small questions here and there, and Cho, to her own surprise, answering with relative ease. It’s not _easy_ , per se, won’t ever really _be_ easy, but he’s offered her a platform to talk about it. It’s what she needed, three years ago.

The party dies down around three am, last of the dates straggling out the door, and Cormac waits until everyone’s all gone to take his own leave. Cho’s got the beginnings of a headache from the red wine, so when he says “I’ll text you,”, it doesn’t sink in until too late.

And then he doesn’t text. All weekend.

Cho curses herself for a variety of things – for lying to her friends initially, for inviting Cormac, for telling him far more than he probably ever wanted to know, for thinking he was actually going to text, for maybe kinda sorta starting to like the dude. She knows she falls hard and fast, but God, she thought she outgrew _this_.

She hasn’t been this hung up on a message from a guy in ages. The hollow feeling in her stomach is still the same.

Cho gives up hope when Sunday comes and goes, and she’s already confessed and ranted and analyzed with Marietta for hours. He’s just a football player – just another date that won’t amount to anything. She wishes she could take whatever she said in the bathroom back, but it’s out there and “if he can’t handle it, he’s not worth it,”, as Marietta had so firmly reminded her.

She keeps the little flower bouquet on her desk, though, if only for the fact that they look nice in her room.

***

A coffee sits on her desk when she gets home for from her Monday shift, and for a second she thinks its from Marietta as consolation for the shitty weekend. Except there’s a distinct lack of smiley faces and doodles on the yellow sticky note. She grabs it off the lid.

 **hey chang** , it reads, and Cho knows who it’s actually from immediately. **don't think getting a pretty girl on a date counts as a favor, so take this coffee as my thanks – realized i didnt really tell you about me, so maybe we could go out another time?**

Maybe it’s blasé. Maybe it’s so McLaggen-brand forward it should make her cringe, but instead, Cho just feels relieved as she rereads the note. It doesn’t negate the fact that he hadn’t texted at _all,_ and how much thinking he could’ve spared her – but still.

It’s oddly endearing.

***

When Cho opens the door, ready to curse out whoever rings the doorbell at eleven pm on a Monday night, Cormac shoves another bouquet of flowers in her face.

She pushes it aside. “Honestly, you have to stop giving me stuff that just wilts.”

His smile is cheeky and she realizes he has a small scar on the right side of his mouth. A small imperfection. “Plastic flowers, then?”

“Tacky,” Cho snorts, except she can’t keep from smiling, and the flowers really do smell nice. “How’d you leave the coffee?”

“Your friend, the curly haired one, let me in. Got chewed out, but.” He shrugs, as if recognizing he probably deserved it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text. You have to admit; it’s a lot to hear about. But I was thinking, and I realized, cheat sheets aside, I actually really like you, Chang,” Cormac says, and he’s blunt and graceless, but Cho thinks she’s had enough with the clinical care some guys treat her with and the delicate caution the other ones do.

“Same here,” She says, taking that leap of faith she’s been holding onto, “Why don’t we get something to eat?”

Cormac grins, sure of himself and of whatever this is blossoming to be. Cho takes his offered arm and looks forward to getting there too.   


End file.
